


Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

by felisblanco



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for spn_masquerade, based on the prompt: "Jensen finally gives into his sister's insistence that he needs a pet for companionship. He adopts a large, long hair cat from a local rescue. Two days later his cat turns into a man."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

It comes to the point that Jensen gives in, just to get his sister off his back. Because really, whatever she says, he is _not_ a lonely loser who might as well accept his fate as a sad old cat lady.... gentleman, whatever. 

The truth is he loves being on his own. He loves having a big house all to himself with no loud roommates smelling up the place. He loves the quiet in the mornings, nothing but him and the bitter aroma of heavenly coffee. He loves being able to walk around naked after his shower, if that’s how he’s feeling, without anyone insisting he put on pants. He loves spending a whole weekend on the couch eating whatever he wants with no one around to judge him for it. And he loves working at home, just him and his computer, with no annoying co-workers dragging him to bars after work to, ugh, socialize. 

Plus, with four states between them, he’s far enough from his parents that they don’t bother to visit more than twice a year. He loves them, sure he does, but they’re annoyingly interested in his non-existent love life while resenting his lack of enthusiasm in providing them with grandchildren. At some point he will have to explain to them that his choice of sexual partners doesn’t really have the right equipment for baby making, but the longer they can put off that conversation, the better. 

So yes, he is happy, very happy actually, to be on his own. But apparently it doesn’t matter what he thinks, not talking to anyone for days on end is, according to his sister, “not healthy” and sure to “turn him into a reclusive hermit”. Like that is actually a bad thing. 

“For me, please?” Mac had whined the last time they talked, bringing the number of times she had tried to talk him into getting a pet to approximately one gazillion. “Can you please just do it for me? Just so I know you have someone to talk to other than me and mom.”

“A dog?” Jensen had said skeptical. “Mac, I don’t have time to take care of a dog.”

“All you have is time!” she had yelled, frustrated. “Okay, a cat then. Actually, a cat would be just the thing for you. You can be two antisocial sourpusses together. Too bad Grumpy Cat is taken, you two would make the perfect pair.”

“Haha,” Jensen had deadpanned. Then hung up on her. 

 

Two days later, for some reason, he still finds himself standing outside a rescue center. So maybe Mac is right. Maybe having someone to talk to wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He knows he has this tendency to get annoyed at little things and rant for hours on end and even if he can hardly find a more accommodating listener to rant at than himself, having someone who will listen but not actively talk back (and point out he’s being ridiculous, like some of his old boyfriends used to do, back when he was still dating) would probably ease his stress level. So maybe a cat wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Sure it would get hair all over his couch and probably pee in his shoes but at least it would stop Mac from threatening to hire hookers to come over and have coffee with him. “Because God knows I’d have to pay people to put up with you.” 

So, a cat. An adult cat, he definitely wants it housetrained. And not too playful, whatever Mac implied he really is a busy man who doesn’t have time to run around with a piece of string to keep a kitten entertained. He might not work shifts like her but he has deadlines and schedules, just like everyone else. 

There’s no one sitting behind the counter when he goes inside. The place smells like disinfectants and cat pee and Jensen scrunches his nose. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Just as he is about to turn around and head out a woman comes through the door leading to the back. As the door swings shut on a loud meow she laughs and yells, “Yes, yes, love you too.” Then smiles at Jensen and says, “Can I help you?”

He is about to say that no, he has changed his mind, when the door is pushed open and the biggest cat he has ever seen in his life slips through the crack. Not big like his aunt Mimi’s cat was big, round like a pumpkin with short legs that didn’t even have the strength to jump up on the couch to get petted. No, this cat is enormous, in height, length… even its tail seems abnormally long. It’s a longhair, its coat shiny and auburn and the paws seem almost as big as Jensen’s palm. 

“Bad kitty,” the woman scolds, even if the smile suggests she is too charmed to mind, “I told you to stay in the back.”

The cat gives her a quick glance then jumps up on the counter where it sits up straight, front paws perfectly aligned and looks Jensen over with eyes that are an unusual shade of hazel. It looks almost regal, like the king of the shelter, come forward to judge whether it deems Jensen fit for cat ownership or not.

“I’m sorry,” the woman says. “He only came in yesterday and already thinks he owns the place. So, how can I help you?”

“A cat,” Jensen says slowly. The cat is still watching him and Jensen is having a hard time looking away. The cat’s gaze is hypnotic, the eyes seem to shift color each time they blink. Brown, green, a hint of gold. “I’m looking for a cat.”

“Adult or kitten?”

“Adult. Housetrained. Preferably lazy.” Jensen swears the cat narrows its eyes at him. “Or not,” he hastens to add. “Just not too loud and rowdy. I work at home.” 

The cat tilts its head. It looks like it’s grinning.

“I’m sure we can find someone you can get a long with. Or that gets along with you,” the woman says with a smile. “Now, why don’t you come back here with me and we’ll see if someone catches your eye.”

“What about this one?” Jensen hears himself say. 

What? He doesn’t really want this one, does he? Sure it’s beautiful but it is so huge, it looks too big to even lie on his lap and what’s the point of cats if they can’t lie on your lap? And it probably eats enough for two. But for some reason he just can’t look away. The cat twitches its whiskers. It looks annoyingly amused.

“Well, sure. But we only just got him. He hasn’t been neutered yet, which is why he’s not in the cage with the other tomcats.” She laughs, blushing slightly. “He seems to have an odd preference in that area, if you catch my drift.”

Jensen blinks. The cat definitely reacted at the word “neutered”. Like, it actually turned its head and stared at the woman with wide eyes and a face that can only be described at horrified. Then it looked back at Jensen and this time it seemed to be pleading with him. 

“You neuter all the cats?” he asks. Yes, that was definitely a flinch. The cat even closed its eyes, like it couldn’t stand the thought.

“That’s the policy, yes. The cat population is quite big enough as it is and this fellow would surely add to it vigorously, whatever phase he might be going through now.”

Now it’s Jensen’s turn to wince. Phase. That sounds way too familiar. 

“But he is available?” he asks to be sure. 

“Yes, even if I must say I will be sad to see him go. Such a beautiful animal.”

The cat stares at Jensen. A pink tongue darts out to lick at its nose. 

“Yes,” Jensen says dazed. “Very.”

They do the paperwork, Jensen pays and they set a date for him to pick the cat up, sans testicles, a week from today. The whole time the cat sits there, patiently watching him. Even as Jensen walks out he can feel its gaze on his neck.

 

Once he’s home the doubt starts to seep in. He didn’t even go look at the other cats. What if there was someone in there that would have been his perfect match? Not that a pet is like a partner but still. That huge cat hadn’t even seemed particularly friendly. Now Jensen thinks about it he realizes he didn’t actually ever pet it. What if it doesn’t like to be petted and bites him the first time he tries? What if it doesn’t even purr? 

Jensen eats the fried chicken he bought on the way home then takes a beer out to the living room and sits down in front of the TV. Maybe he should call the rescue center tomorrow. Let them know he’s changed his mind. Yes, that would be the best. There really was something strange about that cat.

He wakes up to a heavy weight on his chest and a pair of hazel eyes staring down at him.

“Mauw?” the weight says.

“Aaaah!” Jensen screeches and falls off the couch. 

The cat scrambles to not get crushed under him and consequently leaves red scratches across Jensen’s chest. He hisses — it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch — and the cat hisses back where it is currently perched on top of the comfy chair, hackles raised and tail bushy.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck!”

The cat hisses again then jumps off the chair and starts racing around the living room, howling and yowling like a banshee.

“How the fuck did you get here?” Jensen yells back as he jumps to his feet. Fuck, his chest is all scratched up, that’s gonna need disinfectant. “You’re not supposed to be here until next Monday!”

The cat screeches to a halt and turns to stare at him. Then it flops down, stretches one back leg in the air and starts licking its balls. It pauses a moment to give Jensen a glare then resumes its activities.

“Seriously?” Jensen tells it. Never mind that he’s talking to a cat like it actually can hold a conversation. “You’re that attached to your balls you couldn’t bear to part with them?”

The cat gives him a pointed look. 

Ok, fair enough. “Not that they were gonna do you much good from what I heard,” he grumbles as he goes for the medical cabinet. He thinks he hears a snort but when he looks over his shoulder the cat has resumed to lick other parts of its genitals. “That’s not the same,” he tells the cat anyway. “I’m human.” 

Now that was definitely a snort.

“Shut up.” 

The scratches are shallow but he rinses them anyway — who knows where those claws have been — then mournfully throws away the bloodstained and ripped t-shirt. It was one of his favorites, he’s had it for over ten years. Which is probably why it ripped so easily, it’s washed thin, all soft like velvet. 

Jensen scowls. That damn cat! 

He goes back into the living room to find the cat vanished. Jensen looks everywhere, peeking under the couch and even into closed cabinets. The cat is not there. If it weren’t for the scratches burning his skin Jensen would think he’d dreamt the whole thing.

He finally finds the cat curled up on his bed. It’s a king-size bed and still the cat seems to take up half of it. Seriously, it resembles a dog more than a cat, that’s how big it is. 

“Shoo. You can sleep on the couch. This is my bed.”

The cat lazily opens one eye. They stare at each other for a long time, until Jensen is forced to look away, his head feeling a little light for some reason. 

“Okay, but only because I’m too tired to argue with you.” 

The cat closes its eye again and tugs its head under one paw. After a few seconds it starts to purr. Loud, like a lawnmower. Guess that answers that question. 

Jensen risks reaching out one hand to run his palm over the thick fur. It really is glorious. Soft like silk and so thick he can bury his fingers completely in it. After a while he regretfully pulls away and goes to brush his teeth. When he returns the cat is lying with its tummy exposed, practically begging for a scratch. Jensen crawls under the covers, intent to not teach the cat any bad habits, like sleeping in his bed every night. 

After a few minutes of loud purring he sighs and sits up, scratching the cat’s tummy. It’s soft and warm and when Jensen leans over he can smell it, sweet and spicy. He gives in to the urge and buries his nose in the soft tummy, inhaling.

The cat purrs even louder. 

 

Jensen’s scratches itch. He tells himself that’s why he can’t fall asleep. The truth is he is curled up like a pretzel because the cat is stretched out across the foot of the bed, allowing Jensen no space for his legs. He tried to nudge it to move but all he got for his trouble was a clawed paw, giving his naked foot a prickly warning. 

Jensen rolls over on his back, legs spread to accommodate for the cat between them. He stares up at the ceiling. The cat is purring, a loud rumble. He can feel the vibration through the mattress. In this position his balls dangle low enough to touch the sheets and it doesn’t take long for his dick to notice. It’s a little like lying on one of those vibrating beds in cheap motels. Except this one has claws and teeth sharp enough to bite his dick off if it would accidentally mistake it for a mouse.

For some reason that only makes him harden faster. He feels a little weird reaching down but honestly, if this is going to be his life from now on he might just as well get used to having a feline audience to all is activities, including jerking off.

He’s midway through a fantasy of a big bad brute holding him down, ripping off his swimsuit (don’t ask) and forcing his enormous cock into Jensen miraculously lubed ass (he might like rape fantasies as much as the next guy but he’s had enough bad sex to know there’s nothing remotely sexy about dry buttholes), when he swears he can feel someone in the room, watching him. He opens his eyes and yelps when he sees two luminous eyes staring at him.

Oh. Right. In his race to orgasm he’d forgotten about the cat.

“Stop looking at me. Go away.”

The cat blinks. 

“I’m serious. This is a private activity. Well, not always,” he amends as the cat gives him a pitying look, “but right now it is. And even if it wasn’t, you’re not invited! I know all about your kind of sex life. There are barbs on your dick! Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?”

The cat narrows its eyes, like it wants to point out that it wasn’t exactly its choice to have a penis that looks like a barbaric medieval weapon. Jensen narrows his eyes back, glaring in the hope that the cat will go away. Instead it climbs over his thigh and settles down right in the bottom of the V of his legs, snug against his balls. Then resumes its purring.

Jensen groans and begins to rise to move the cat away but it’s too late, he’s too far along and the cat is vibrating like a turbo dildo. Jensen comes with a strangled gasp, come spluttering on his chest. The cat raises its head and gives him a wicked grin before lying back down. In a moment the purring stops and Jensen is left lying on the bed with come cooling on his chest and his legs spread like a two dollar whore with the pussy to match in between them.

On the bright side he falls asleep almost immediately.

 

In the morning he manages to trip over the cat four times before he’s even had his coffee. Once on his way to the bathroom, once on his way back to the bedroom to get dressed and twice as he’s trying to make his way downstairs and to the kitchen. Not because he doesn’t notice the cat, it is too huge to not be noticed, in fact Jensen wouldn’t be surprised if they can detect it from space. But it keeps slinking its way between Jensen’s legs, like they’re its own personal obstacle track. 

Once he’s seated on the couch with a cup of glorious coffee in his hand and three thousand pounds of purring fur in his lap he ponders what to do. It’s quite possible that he has lost his mind. His sister might quite well have been right that so much solitude would make him snap one day. But whether he is crazy or not he still can’t stomach the thought of taking the cat in to have its balls cut off. Not that they’re that impressive, even if the cat seems proud enough of them to feel the need to flash them all the time. But he still can remember the look of terror in the cat’s eyes when the woman at shelter mentioned neutering. Of course that was probably his imagination. Not like a cat can actually understand humans. Right?

“Guess I should take you in to get you neutered,” he tries.

The purring stops. The cat lies completely still for a long time. Then Jensen can feel claws slowly making their way into his thigh.

“Or not.”

The claws retract but the cat is still eerily still. 

“Thing is, if I tell them you’re here, they’ll want me to take you in. Not that I really know how to explain how you got here. They’ll probably think I stole you. Even if I already paid for everything. Which was damn expensive, I’ll let you know, especially the damn neutering. Stop that!” he yelps as the claws make a reappearance. “You want to keep your balls, I got it.”

After thinking it over he decides he just won’t do anything. They have his contact info and will probably call once they realize the cat is gone. Then he’ll just say that he doesn’t want another one, they can keep the money, thank you, goodbye.

“Guess I need to give you a name,” he muses. “Can’t keep calling you cat.”

The cat looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, then yawns, the jaws opening to reveal an impressive set of teeth before it snaps its mouth shut again. Jensen is tempted to name it Mustafa, except he doesn’t think the cat really needs more ego. The tail starts swishing from side to side and then it stops, straight except for a curl at the tip, like the letter J.

“Jay?”

The cat licks Jensen’s hand.

“Okay, Jay it is.

Jay grins then resumes grooming himself. Guess it takes a lot of work to keep all that fur so glorious.

 

Jensen spends the day drinking coffee, talking to the rescue center (that offers its sincere apologies and offers Jensen a discount for any future feline friends he would like), petting Jay and not doing any work at all. Oh, he tries. But Jay is a bit more socially needy than Jensen had anticipated. As in he doesn’t like to be ignored at all. He sits on the newspaper when Jensen tries to read over his third cup of coffee. He walks over the laptop when Jensen is trying to type. He pokes his head in front of the screen and tries to catch the cursor running across it. He complains loudly when all Jensen finds to feed him is yesterday’s fried chicken. And then he scratches on the balcony door and demands to be let out. When Jensen ignores him, Jay promptly pees on the rug. It’s old and looks a lot better in the trash than it ever did on Jensen’s floor, but still.

“Okay, okay, I get it! I’m a lousy cat owner! I didn’t expect you until next week, okay? I haven’t bought any stuff yet!”

 

Jensen makes the trip to the store as fast as he can, sure that Jay will have trashed the whole house when he gets back. Instead he comes back to find Jay sitting in the window, waiting for him like a feline guard. As soon as Jensen opens the door the cat is slinking in circles around his legs, almost making him trip once again.

“Calm down. I’m gonna drop the whole lot on you if you keep that up.”

Jay howls that he hasn’t had anything to eat in WEEKS and that Jensen is a cruel and wicked man to leave him alone in this house for THREE DAYS! 

“I was gone twenty minutes, you drama queen,” Jensen huffs. He may not speak cat but he has dealt with his share of dramatic teenagers, thank you Mom and Dad for signing him up for that church group in high school.

Jay jumps up on the kitchen bench as Jensen opens a can of tuna, butting his head against Jensen’s hand in his eagerness to finally get something to eat.

“There was nothing wrong with that chicken,” Jensen grumbles. “I swear, you eat better than me.”

He puts the litter box in the laundry room and scatters a few toys around the house. Hopefully they will keep Jay occupied so Jensen can get some work done. For the next two hours Jensen types like the wind. He keeps straining his ears but apart from a small tingling sound as Jay assumedly paws at one of the toys, he hears nothing. He starts worrying that he left the door open or maybe a window. What if Jay got out and has been run over by a car? Jensen jumps up and rushes into the living room, only to find Jay lying curled up on the comfy chair, sleeping. 

Jensen stands watching the cat for a while as he wills his pulse to stop racing. The sight is incredibly peaceful, even if Jay is not purring at the moment. Just watching the stomach move up and down as he breathes makes Jensen feel sleepy. He walks over to the couch to lay down, just for a little while. After all he didn’t get too much sleep last night. Damn cat.

 

He wakes up to a familiar sight. Heavy weight on his chest, green eyes staring down at him. Jay is sitting on his chest, head tilted as if he’s contemplating whether Jensen’s chest or stomach, or possibly face, would make a better pillow to lie on.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Jensen groans, puts his arm around the cat and rolls over on his side, letting Jay slide to lie beside him on the couch. After a while of indignant glaring the cat settles down against Jensen’s stomach and soon it is purring, a low rumble that vibrates all the way through Jensen’s spine. He ignores his dick that seems to think it’s playtime again and falls asleep with one arm tugged under his head, the other curl around Jay.

 

They spend the evening watching TV. Jay wants to watch a nature program about birds and after five minutes of loud complaining Jensen gives in. He switches over to reruns of _Friends_ once he’s sure the cat is asleep. Then switches back with a grumbling sigh when Jay digs his sharp claws into Jensen’s arm, without even opening its eyes.

When it’s time for bed Jensen doesn’t even try to argue. He just tries to make himself as comfortable as possible with Jay stretched out on the middle off the bed. And even if the purring is tempting Jensen keeps his hands far away from his dick. 

 

When Jensen comes out of the shower the next morning the car is sitting on the toilet, watching him. It follows Jensen into the bedroom where it jumps up on the bed and continues staring. It makes Jensen feel ridiculously self-conscious about being naked in his own bedroom in his own damn home. He only just keeps himself from covering his junk with his hands.

“Stop staring,” he hisses and hurries to find clean underwear. 

He wonders if the cat was in the bathroom the whole time. Like, while Jensen was jerking off. And fingering himself. And possibly having that same fantasy from the night before except this time he was in the showers at the swimming hall (ok, so there had possibly been an incident when he was in the swim team in high school, involving Jensen’s overactive imagination and the captain of the swim team who had, as it turned out, not been coming on to him but still didn’t mind getting a blowjob since they were already there and naked and all) and the big, brute was even bigger, a lot hairier and apparently had a bite kink, latching on to Jensen’s neck while he fucked him up against the wall. Jensen might have gotten a bit loud there in the end. 

Maybe that was what brought Jay in, maybe he thought Jensen was in pain and needed help. Except Jay isn’t a dog, he is a cat and everyone knows cats are self-centered bastards.

Maybe Jay is just a perverted tomcat who was simply enjoying the show and wondering when he might next get the opportunity to shove his own barbed(!) cock into some frisky feline. 

Jensen gives the cat a suspicious glare over his shoulder as he shimmies into his boxer briefs. Jay gazes back, whiskers twitching. 

“Stop it.”

Jay puts his hind leg up in the air and starts licking his genitals.

“At least I did it behind the shower curtain,” Jensen mutters. 

 

The day goes pretty much as the day before except with no peeing incident and a lot of jingling sounds as Jay has apparently decided that cat toys are the bomb. At one point he comes rushing into Jensen’s work room with a small toy mouse in his mouth, runs around in circles, jumps up on the windowsill and back down then out the door again.

“No more catnip for you,” Jensen yells after him. 

Jay doesn’t answer, he just runs around like a crazy cat until he accidentally knocks over a lamp with a loud crash and spends the next half hour hiding under the couch.

 

Jensen is dozing on the couch after dinner when Jay, who has been purring on Jensen’s chest for the last hour, raises his head and bumps Jensen on the lips with his cold, wet nose. Jensen opens his eyes. He smiles and gives Jay a light kiss back. Then screams as there is suddenly a seven foot naked giant crushing him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” the man says and scrambles to his feet, accidentally hitting Jensen in the balls with his knee in his hurry. That cuts off his screaming but only because he’s too busy trying to catch his breath while not passing out from the pain. And he thought the cat was heavy… The cat! Jay! 

“What have you done with my cat?” Jensen wheezes. “Who are you? How did you get in here? And why the fuck are you naked!”

“I’m impressed by your priorities,” the man says. “Except for the last part, I’d think that would come first. But I appreciate you worrying more about me than my state of dress.”

Now Jensen can finally look at him from further away than two inches he notices that the man is huge, incredibly muscled, deadly attractive and proportioned in every possible way. Also he has thick long auburn hair and hazel eyes that are weirdly familiar. And mesmerizing. And staring at him like a hungry lion…

“Jay! Oh my god. You’re _Jay_?”

The man blinks. “Wow, that usually takes a lot longer to explain. Yes, I’m Jay. Jared actually.” He sticks out a huge hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Jensen doesn’t move. He’s not sure he can. He swallows. “You are naked,” he squeaks out.

Jared pulls back, blushing. “Yeah.” He ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cats don’t really wear clothes.” He looks around. “Maybe I can borrow something. If this freaks you out.”

“You’ve seen me naked,” Jensen answers dumbly. And not only naked, Jared has seen him… Oh god! 

“Oh God, you were in the bathroom this morning when I…! And the night before I…! Oh my God, I used you as a vibrator!” 

“Hey, it’s cool. I totally didn’t mind,” Jared hurries to assure him. “I even would have joined you in the shower except… water. Ugh.” He shudders.

Right. Cat. Jensen breathes. He suddenly feels calm again. He has no idea why. Maybe because once you’ve used someone as a vibrator you’re way past any further embarrassment. “So you don’t shower? Ever?”

“Does it look like I need to?” Jared asks with a smirk. He sticks out his very pink tongue and licks his fingertips.

Jensen blushes. No, Jared looks just as glorious as he did as a cat, mane and all. Which reminds him… Jensen risks a glance down.

“Oh thank God, you don’t have barbs,” he breathes out in a rush.

Jared looks down at himself. “Uh, no. Not in this form. Turns out humans don’t really like that.”

“And cats do?” Jensen asks incredulous.

Jared winces. “That is not actually something we decided, you know. I suggest you take that debate up with evolution.”

“As long as you don’t fuck me in cat form I don’t care,” Jensen blurts out. Oh shit. “I mean, not that I… We’re not gonna…” 

He chokes on his words. Jared is leaning over him, eyes practically golden, a rumbling sound in his chest. Purring. Oh God. He’s purring.

“We’re not?” Jared asks. The smirk is feline, feral, cat on the prowl, ready to pounce.

“Uhn…” Jensen is suddenly very much aware of the facts that he is only wearing his pj bottoms, that he is lying on his back on the couch with Jared looming over him and that Jared is naked. And giant. And strong. And… everything Jensen has ever fantasized about. 

“No barbs?” he whispers, just to be sure.

“No barbs,” Jared confirms with a purr. 

Jensen swallows. “Okay then,” he says. “If you promise to keep purring.”

Jared grins. “Deal.”

 

“You swear there were no barbs?” Jensen asks into the couch. He’s lying flat on his stomach in a pool of rapidly cooling come. His ass aches like a motherfucker.

“No barbs,” Jared promises and licks his neck. “You’re just really out of practice. And my cock is huge.”

“I noticed,” Jensen mumbles then winces as his butthole flexes in happy remembrance. Jared purrs and moves down to lick lightly over the offended area. Jensen shivers. There might not be barbs on Jared’s dick but his tongue has got some pretty rough patches. Oh God. That feels really good. Jensen moans into the pillow as Jared starts kneading his butt cheeks while his tongue licks the sweat off Jensen’s back in a way that feels suspiciously like grooming. He’s not up for another round yet but when he is, he’s definitely going to tell Jared to put that tongue to good use on other parts of his anatomy. 

He isn’t really hurt. Just very sore. And a bit suspicious still. And maybe, possibly, a tiny bit disappointed. Not that barbs sound fun — at all — but apart from the purring and the very huge cock — which he doesn’t really think is a feline thing, more just of a Jared thing — the sex had been just like human sex. Amazing human sex with Jared pounding him into the mattress until he came with a screaming orgasm that has undoubtedly put him off any other man… cat… whatever, for the rest of his life. But still. You’d think having sex with a cat would be at least a little bit kinky.

But as Jared drapes himself over Jensen and the purring vibrates through his body, loosening every sore muscle like the best massage chair ever, Jensen decides that a bestiality kink is after all way over rated. This is more than enough. In fact he can’t wait for his ass to feel better so they can do this all over again. This time in a bed because it is gonna be hell cleaning all the come out of the couch. He really hopes the smell of feline come doesn’t linger, like cat pee. 

Now, next on the list of things to do: How to get Jared over his fear of water and introduce him to shower sex.

fin


End file.
